


The Curse

by Yoite



Series: FebuWhump 2021 [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: COVID is briefly mentioned, Can't believe I forgot to tag Ineffable Husbands, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cute, FebuWhump2021, Febuwhump, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Crowley, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Aziraphale and Crowley (Good Omens), Pre-Slash, Present day setting, Prompt Fill, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but not really whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:09:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29197380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yoite/pseuds/Yoite
Summary: Crowley thinks he might have been cursed. Aziraphale investigates.It’s Day 4 of FebuWhump, but this one is shamelessly fluffy, not sure if it could still be reasonably considered whump. No warnings of any kinds needed imho, but please let me know if I need to add something.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: FebuWhump 2021 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141988
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34
Collections: febuwhump 2021





	The Curse

**Author's Note:**

> Todays prompt was “impaling”, but hard as I tried, I just couldn’t come up with anything that wasn’t too smutty for whump or too gory for my personal taste. 
> 
> So I chose one of the alternative clues - I will reveal which one at the end! Hope you enjoy.

The angel only knew one person-shaped entity un-British enough to be calling him at a time of night when you couldn't even get a bar of Dairy Milk at the local Tesco Express.

"A-zi-ra-phale", the demon's voice came whisper-shouting down the line, agitatedly dragging out the syllables of his name.

"Why are you whispering, dear?"

"Shhhhh! I think I've been cursed!"

Aziraphale felt the hot cocoa he had just indulged in turn cold on the way to his stomach.

"Wha-? I mean, I don't think that would technically be possible, Crowley, aren't _you_ the one supposed to do the, uh.."

"Well, maybe it was _your_ lot screwing me over!"

"We don't curse!" Aziraphale huffed, mildly affronted. "We -"

"Bless, I know, I know, would have the bloody same effect on me though, wouldn't it?"

The angel decided to best not get into the finer points of how benedictions worked. 

"What happened?"

There was a pause.

"You should probably come see for yourself. I can't.. leave the flat right now."

And another pause, only as long as a breath could comfortably be held.

"Can you come?"

"Of course, just..", Aziraphale used his free hand to carefully close a thick tome he had just laid out on the desk, ready to give it some much-needed TLC, ".. don't do anything stupid."

A short cab ride later, the angel's heart was hammering as he made his way through the indoor rainforest, not sure what hellish sight awaited him. He really hoped it wasn't a bubonic plague or missing limbs type of scenario. Ever since leaving the Middle Ages firmly behind him he found himself getting more and more squeamish about those things.

He stopped in the doorway to the lounge, taking a few moments to survey the scene. Then breathed a sigh of relief.

There was Crowley, slouched in his ridiculous wannabe throne with his legs on the desk, pulling off a rather convincing dying swan impression, his face and hands covered in tiny red spots. And next to his feet, paying very little attention to his obvious suffering, was a new addition to his sparse furnishings. Aziraphale made a conscious effort to suppress a smile. 

"You.. bought yourself a cat?" 

"That's what those bellends I got it from said it was but it's a blasted chimera, does nothing but wailing and scratching me all day!"

The so insulted tiny kitten raised its big blue eyes at Aziraphale, innocently licking its paw as the angel made his way over to the desk.

"Have you considered you might be allergic to cat hair."

"What? How can I be allergic to _anything_ , I'm a -"

"May I"?

Aziraphale picked up the empty tumbler resting next to a near-depleted whisky bottle.

"Sure, didn't know you liked whisk- hey!"

Crowley jerked back as the angel tentatively pressed the glass to his cheek.

"What are you -?"

"Just hold still for a moment, will you, dear? I want to check something."

"What, are you a doctor now?", the demon grumbled but allowed him to press the tumbler to his skin. Aziraphale gently rolled it back and forth a little, leaning down, closer to his face, to watch the rash disappear underneath the cool, clear glass. He thought he could hear Crowley's breath hitch, but he probably just imagined it.

"Yes. Definitely not meningitis. And I'm not an expert on curses, obviously, but.. most likely an allergic reaction. Here - "

He reached into his coat pocket, placing a little box on the table.

"Antihistamines should take care of this within a day or two. Great human invention."

"Anti-what now? And why the heaven do you carry those around with you?"

"Uh..", the angel's hands were playing with the buttons of his waistcoat under Crowley's suspicious gaze, "I've had hay fever for quite a few decades now. I suppose you haven't noticed?"

"Hay fever? You?" Crowley looked a little guilty, casually studying the tablets. "I thought it's just they way you angels roll, getting all teary-eyed over the darling buds of May and what not. Give me this." 

He took the tumbler out of Aziraphale's hand, pouring another drink. 

"It seems that our bodies are becoming gradually more susceptible to.. human predicaments, over time", the angel avoided his gaze as Crowley offered him the glass, giving a little shake of his head. There were quite a few instances of this susceptibility that he was becoming increasingly aware of, and Crowley's fingers brushing his a moment ago were a stark reminder, but it wasn't something that could be talked about. Thankfully, a welcome, irresistibly soft-looking change of topic was staring him right in the eye.

"So this is the root cause of this whole sticky wicket? Well aren't you just the sweetest little pussycat?"

He picked up the kitten who quite happily submitted to his affection, nestling into the nook of his arm. Of course, it was one of those sleek, black, impossibly stylish breeds that perfectly matched Crowley's taste in design, not the colourful, long-haired kind that Aziraphale would have chosen for himself. Still, it was as perfect as any of God's creations could ever hope to be.

"Who is a cute little kittywinks mcmuffin?" the Angel cooed, stroking behind the kitten's ears.

"Definitely not that one", Crowley grumbled and sneezed. "If I wanted a mini gargoyle I might have as well stayed in hell and -.. how did you make it do _that_?"

He pointed reproachfully at the kitten who was now purring its little head off, rubbing its tiny, fluffy cheeks against the angel's fingertips.

"You just need to be gentle", Aziraphale smiled, before catching himself, "or, well, I guess not, since you're allergic.."

The demons eyes were glued to where the angel's hands were softly stroking over the cat's fur, a little shakily now that Crowley was watching them so intently.

"Why did you get a cat, anyway?" 

The demon gave a grumpy shrug, turning away to look out of the window and sip on his drink.

"Dunno. They're good with mice, aren't they?"

"You have a vermin problem? In this flat?"

"Fine", Crowley rolled back his head, defeated. "They said on the radio that cats are -.. I guess I've just been feeling a bit -.. down, lately. 2020 has been such a wash-out. People don't go out anymore, people don't have fun anymore. If there's no fun, there's no sin. And the other way 'round, too."

The angel decided not to go there.

"The most demonic thing I can do to humans these days is to make wearing face masks under your nose fashionable. Which, I guess, I'm pretty successful at, but that's just not my _scene_."

Aziraphale scrunched up his face, fingers still buried in warm fur. He would have much rather reached out and stroked over Crowley's hair, just to comfort him, of course. But that would have been entirely inappropriate, and besides, he would never be forgiven for messing up that painstakingly constructed quiff.

"You take the beast", Crowley finally turned back around, a second pair of elliptical pupils looking up at his face. "Make it your resident shop cat or something."

"Look, uh", the angel set out to protest, "I'm not sure I can really -"

Before he could get much further the demon pulled his ultimate weapon, pouting at him from underneath raised brows. Aziraphale sighed in resignation. He really needed Crowley to stop doing that kind of thing with his face. It just wasn't fair play.

"Well, I suppose, there's enough space, I'll just need to - "

His mind boggled thinking of all the adjustments he needed to make in order to protect his precious antique belongings from those razor-sharp claws. A few frivolous miracles were in order.

"You know", he dragged his eyes away from his friend, looking down at the kitten purring in his arms, "you can reduce allergic reactions, over time, if you want it back at some point. You would just need to come to the shop, for a little at a time, but regularly. Very regularly. That's important for the, uh, desensitisation process. If you like."

The demon's voice was not all that different from a cat's purr when he responded.

"I guess I could do that."

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, the alternative prompt I chose was "allergies". 
> 
> This is the first time I made Aziraphale call Crowley "dear", I WANT to like him using terms of endearment, but I'm still undecided if this works for me..
> 
> If you enjoyed, please drop me a comment. Comments are like kittens for the writer's soul!


End file.
